


Darwin's Theory

by multi_fandom_crazy_fangirl



Series: In Another Life [3]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gym Sex, Humour, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Natasha is hot for her examiner, P.E. Coach Steve Rogers, Porn With Plot, Romanogers 2k16 smut week, Romanogers Smut Week, Shameless Smut, Slight Adam's apple fetish, Student Natasha Romanoff, Teacher/Student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multi_fandom_crazy_fangirl/pseuds/multi_fandom_crazy_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“You know, according to Darwin, men demonstrate their physical fitness to enthrall a mate.” Without breaking eye contact, she sat down on the bench press, her ass hanging slightly over the edge, and leaned back onto her elbows, spreading her legs to give him the perfect view of her pantiless sex. “Should we test your prowess?”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darwin's Theory

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, Readers!
> 
> So this happened. 
> 
> Fun fact: this is based on me lusting after my own examiner. Only I didn't bang him. Sigh. Also, I wrote this while I was high on morphine... Finally get the hype writers create about writing while drunk. Still, the warning's there. 
> 
> The usual "I use British English so there are lots of 'u's in my words" and "don't like don't read". 
> 
> Let the reading begin!
> 
> Love, Sakshi.

She couldn’t be blamed for being distracted. Natasha flicked cap of her pen, and tapped the tip on the sleek wooden top of the desk in a staccato sound that earned her a kick in the back of her chair from Clint – Clint, who was actually writing the paper and not staring lustfully at their examiner.

She _really_ couldn’t be blamed for being distracted. Darwin’s Theory went flying out the window the moment Coach Rogers entered the exam hall for invigilation.

She bent over her paper and pretended to write as he walked down the aisle between the desks one row away from her, following the movement of his long lean legs out of the corner of her eyes. Even through the dark tight jeans he wore, she could see the hard muscles flex with the motion. She squeezed her eyes shut against the bolt of lust that shot through her. If his legs looked so good covered, she wondered how they would look without the denim clinging to them.

Dropping her pen back on top of her relatively empty answer script - she _had_ tried to solve some questions - she reached for her water bottle. She hoped the cool water would help her focus. Nimbly unscrewing the plastic bottle, she lifted it to her lips just as her eyes met Coach Rogers’.  Their gazes remained locked as she wrapped her lips around the mouth of the bottle and sucked. A little water trickled out of the corner of her mouth and ran down the side of her jaw and neck. She saw his eyes widen slightly as they traced the movement of the droplet, and he gulped, his Adam’s apple shifting erotically.

That. _Damned_. Adam’s. Apple.  

She went back to her paper feeling warmer than before - did they turn down the air conditioning in the exam hall? - but a ring of the bell alerting them that only two hours were left helped her concentrate. The paper was a breeze, easier than any she had given before, and it gave her enough time to steal glances at the object of her desire between questions.

An hour later, she raised her hand to ask for additional sheets, and was engulfed with the smell of fresh and cool soap. _His cologne_. He’d come from somewhere behind her and was leaning over her. His chest pressed against her shoulder as he placed the extra booklet on her desk. He took the pen from her hand to sign on the sheet, and his fingers lingered, brushing against her knuckles. Static shot up her arm at the touch, and her breath hitched slightly.  

He walked away with a quick look back over his shoulders at her, and he smirked when he saw her staring after him. He knew what he was doing to her.

He _knew_.

She formulated a plan. Once her exam was over that day, she would - unofficially - no longer be a student at the school. It was her last day in school, and Natasha Romanoff was going to go out with a bang.

Well, a bang _ing_ , to be precise.

Once the final bell rang, and the answer scripts had been submitted, instead of following Clint and the rest of the gang to the beach to celebrate, she went off to the locker room and changed into her old cheerleading outfit. She had dropped the activity in favour of ballet this year, but had kept the skimpy crop top and the miniscule skirt - the clothes were a bit smaller for her now, but that only served her purpose - for a rainy day. And right now, it was _pouring_.

She crossed over to the dark gym, bypassing the basketball court and the volleyball net, going over to the back where the heavy training equipment and his office were. She stood casually by the door, one leg bent at the knee and resting against the wall, and waited for him to come. It wasn’t long before he strolled in, a punching bag lifted over his shoulder. He’d changed into workout clothes - sweatpants and a tight white shirt that did his chest _all_ the justice - and his arms were bulging with strength as they held the heavy bag up. He stopped short when he saw her, pupils blown wide as his eyes raked over her scantily clad figure. She’d caught him staring at her more than once when she’d been on the squad, and was glad to know she still had that effect on him. Now she could finally do something about it.  

He dropped the punching bag slowly on the ground, never taking his eyes off her. His gaze lingered a little on her toned stomach, noticing the scar on her side that she got from one of the ballet bars dropping on her. The front of his pants bulged and grew slowly. When his eyes travelled back to her face and saw her sly smirk, he licked his lips nervously, but definitely not in a bad way.

“Miss Romanoff,” his voice was deeper than normal, more breathy, “shouldn’t you be at the beach, celebrating the end of school life with rest of your batch mates?”

She wasn’t surprised he knew about the plans. He’d probably been invited too. Steve Rogers was young, not even thirty, and got along well with the players on the teams.

“I was planning on having a celebration of my own, Coach,” she said in a low, husky tone, pushing herself away from the wall and sauntering over to him. She swayed her lips just a little, pleased when she heard him inhale sharply.    

She stood close to him, her chest pressed to his midriff, and he automatically settled his hands on her bare waist, his warm palm sending shivers up her spine. He was large, and she barely reached his shoulders. Her pelvis brushed the hardening front of his pants and he softly groaned, the rumbling in his body making her vibrate with pleasure. He looked down at her through hooded eyes.

“And how can I help you with that?” He asked, the words making his Adam’s apple move. It was doing things to her - _that goddamned Adam’s apple_ \- and she lifted herself onto her toes and wrapped her lips around it, pulling the skin into her mouth with her teeth, suckling on it. His grip on her waist tightened and he gasped. “We shouldn’t be doing this…”

She pulled away from him and grinned wickedly up at him. With a seductive twirl she moved out from under his arms and behind him. He turned around to see her walking backwards away from him and towards the heavy machinery.

“You know, according to Darwin, men demonstrate their physical fitness to enthrall a mate.” Without breaking eye contact, she sat down on the bench press, her ass hanging slightly over the edge, and leaned back onto her elbows, spreading her legs to give him the perfect view of her pantiless sex. “Should we test your prowess?”

“If you’re already here,” he said, prowling over to her, his stance predatory, eyes full of promise of what was to come, “then I have more than demonstrated my prowess.”

She bit her lip,  eyes gleaming with excitement, feeling slightly breathless as he stopped between her legs. She made quite a view, pale skin covered in glittering blue scrap of fabric, red curls splayed out around her face, completely spread out for him. Slowly, deliberately, he sank down onto his knees in front of her. His open palms rested on the inside of her thighs and slowly, with the lightest of touch, moving them upwards, his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake as he spread her skirt up and revealed more of her to him. A trimmed line of red curls led down to her bare and glistening sex, and he nearly howled with need at the sight.

“Stop me, Natasha,” he said, his voice rough. “Stop me before I do something we both regret later.”

Lithely, she sat up, her midriff at his eye level now, and he had to crane his head up to look at her. “I’m 18, I’m no longer your student and you’re no longer my P.E. coach.” She bent her head down and captured his lips. He hesitated for one micro second before responding, tilting his head ever so slightly to get the angle right. It was slow, sensual, testing uncharted waters. He tasted of mint and coffee, and the combination was heady, making her head spin.  When they broke apart, it was to dizzily rest their foreheads together. “Still want to back out?” She teased, breathless as she was, falling back down into her earlier position.

He growled lowly, the earlier hesitancy gone, and shifted his hands to under her thighs and suddenly jerked her hips up. She squealed as the movement caused her back to hit the leather seat. He dived in, going straight for her wet slit and spread her nether lips apart with his tongue. She mewled as he flattened his tongue over her clit. He shifted her legs to wrap them around his shoulders, one thick arm laying across her waist as the fingers of the other found her entrance. He pushed one finger inside, burying it easily to the knuckle. Her back arched and she keened, and he held her down. Her hands drifted to his head and knotted in his hair, holding him firmly in place. He maintained the assault on her, adding another finger into the mix, thrusting them as his tongue flicked her clit.

She quickly came apart under him with a low wail, her grip on his hair tightening painfully. He let her ride her orgasm out, let her grind against his face to her pleasure. When she finally fell back down, he got up, licking his lips. She looked up at him, somehow sated but still wanting more. One of her hands crawled up her body, up the thin expanse of her abdomen and ribs, and dipped into her top. She pulled out a foil packet from her bra and held it out for him.

His erection was now painfully throbbing in his pants, the grey material at the front wet with his own pre-cum, and when his hands freed his raging length from the confines, he let his head fall back with a groan of relief and pleasure. One of his hands stroked his cock, rubbing the leaking white droplets over the purple head, and the other brought the condom packet up to his mouth. He ripped the package open with his teeth, and she widened her eyes in anticipation. He quickly sheathed himself in the rubber and aligned it to her orifice.

“Have you done this before?”

“I’m not as innocent as I look,” she winked at him, making him chuckle.

“I won’t be able to hold myself back,” he warned.

She gave him a salacious smirk. “I’m counting on it, Coach.”

He lifted her legs up to wrap around his hips so that her entire lower half was now up in the air.  “You’ll want to grab the barbell,” he advised just as he thrust into her. She managed to grip the rod above her just in time, and let out a long drawn out cry as he filled her. Steve hissed as her tight sheath gripped and clenched around his length. He slowly pulled out and sank back in another inch. He set a slow, tentative rhythm, and her hands gripped the barbell harder as he penetrated her deeper and deeper.

They both let out low moans when he bottomed out, and he let her adjust for a moment before increasing his pace. Soon she was meeting his thrusts, moaning and whimpering wildly. Her arms lifted above her head angled her torso so that her chest jutted out. He brought one hand up to push her top down and release one breast. He leaned down and wrapped his mouth around it, flicking her nipple with his tongue. She wailed, gasping in pleasure.

The heat in them simmered and grew into an inferno. A tingling sensation covered and spread all over Natasha, and she was dangling on the edge. He sensed it through her increasing moans and cries, and brought his finger down to the bundle of nerves between her legs. He scraped it with his blunt nail, making her jump, and pressed down on it.

She shattered around him, her eyes fluttering shut and her moans turning into a breathless cry as white hot pleasure washed all over her. He kept moving through her orgasm, chasing his own release. He leaned over her and closed his mouth around hers, swallowing the rest of her cries, and with a few stuttering thrusts, spilled into the condom. She let go of the barbell and wrapped her now sore arms around his broad shoulders as she clung to him. Together they rode out their pleasure.

When they finally stuttered to a stop, Steve was the first to move. He pulled out of her, both of them moaning at the loss of contact. Natasha sighed and let her head drop back onto the bench press. “Wow,” she mumbled in a daze.

He chuckled before pressing his lips to her in a soft kiss. When he pulled back, her eyes were gleaming with a wild glee. “Let’s hit the showers now.”  

He groaned and claimed her lips for a more passionate kiss.

Hours later, she lay face down in her bed as her foster brother massaged the soreness out of her shoulders and back.

“What the hell happened to you?” Clint asked as he hit a particularly bad spot and she released another groan of pain.

“Bench press,” she mumbled into her pillow, not having the energy to lift her head.

He stared at her in bewilderment. “How many weights did you _do_?”

She giggled, like she was party to a joke only she knew, and Clint realised he really didn’t want to know.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of my smut series and my alternate universe series. You can message me or send me prompts on my tumblr account   
> [ multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl.tumblr.com.  ](http://multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl.tumblr.com/)  
>  If you liked what you read, don't forget to leave behind some lovely kudos and comments! 


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